


Marked for Midnight

by DoctorDeansGrace



Category: Doctor Who, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Episode: s04e10 Midnight, M/M, Mark of Cain, Other, Superwho, Tenth Doctor Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:19:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4787018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorDeansGrace/pseuds/DoctorDeansGrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The hunt is on for Metatron, and, after months of nothing, Team Free Will finally have their hands on a decent lead. Problem is - everything about the place Metatron's holed up in screams trap. Not just any trap either. When the King of Hell warns you of the darkness ahead, you know Metadouche as something up his sleeve. And he's not the only one...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The King's Warning

"Is it just me, or does this warehouse just scream trap?"

"Warehouses can't speak, Dean, but yes, It does have an eerie sense about it.”

"Of course it's a trap. It's Metatron."

Having armed themselves to the teeth with as many knives and guns they could conceal and carry, Dean Winchester gently slammed the trunk of his Baby closed. He could feel the First Blade within his sleeve, burning against his skin. Urging him to dig its ancient jaw into the flesh of another living being. Any living being. Demon, angel...brother.

He fought to suppress the need within him to kill. The joy of, at his hands, cutting another's life short. That wasn't him. It was the mark. And he couldn't let it control him. He had to be stronger. For himself. For Castiel. For Sammy.

And besides, he thought...they both believed he had left it back at the bunker. They knew to some extent that it was affecting him. Fortunately, just not how much. Because if they knew that, he'd be locked up under their watch. Useless. The blade and word on Metatron gone to waste.

"Dean!"

It was Cas who cut his thoughts short. Looking up, Dean saw the angel standing over him, looking worried. Sam right beside him.

"You okay?"

But before he could answer with the same sarcasm as he always had -

"Hello, boys."

Crowley appeared. The very last man (next to Metatron) they ever wanted to see.

“Crowley!”

“Poor Moose...always tricky keeping up, isn’t it?

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Dean...” he smirked. “Such a flirt.”

“You better start talking, Crowley or so help me-”

“Can it, Squirrel, I’m here to help.”

Silence.

"Help us,” Sam gasped. “Why would you help us."

"Because, Samantha," he said with a grin, "with all those feathery five year olds stuck on earth, there's less souls to claim. Less deals to make. I want that egotistical arrogant ass out of the big seat as much as you do, but unfortunately I need you boys to do it. So don't cock it up."

"And what are you going to do?" Dean asked, annoyed. "Sit on your ass downstairs?"

"And miss a date with you, Squirrel?" Crowley smirked. There was a pause as the frustration fumed within Dean, but with no words to express it. "Believe me, I would love to help you, Moose, and the trench coated cherub over there stick Metadouche where the sun doesn't shine - but I can't."

"And why not."

"Well - I've got a reputation to maintain."

"What?"

"King of Hell, darling. Look me up."

"If he were seen helping us, the demons would believe we were working together."

"Well done, Castiel. Want a cookie?"

Cas moved to answer, but Dean, lightly hitting the angel’s chest with the back of his hand, stopped him.

“Anyway,” Crowley rolled his eyes, “I’ve not come for idle chit chat, boys, I’ve come to warn you.”

“Warn us?” Dean looked taken aback. “About what?”

“Metatron.”

His expression didn’t change. “Yeah?!”

“It’s a trap.”

And Sam, Dean, and Castiel just stared at the demon king with various degrees of shock across their faces. From Cas’s innocent confusion to Sam’s annoyance to Dean’s pure infuriated rage (fueled by the mark).

"Do you think we don't know that?"

"How stupid do you think we are, Crowley?”

“Well,” the king looked up as he thought, “you’re all still walking in their without the foggiest idea what’s in there...you think it’ll be easy because you all took down Abaddon, Dick, and Lucifer himself...and you think some bone with teeth can kill the new god....” - he paused - “Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Yeah, well,” Dean smiled sarcastically. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Dean!”

As he started to walk away, Cas reached out for his shoulder.

“I think we should listen,” the angel whispered in his low and raspy voice. “He’s right. We don’t even have the blade with us. We’re severely underprepared -”

“Hold on,” Crowley interrupted. “Are you telling me you three have come to kill that arrogant little bugger without the blade?" Silence. "Have you lost your bloody minds?!"

He shot a sharp look to Dean, and, for the first time in his life, Dean couldn't answer. He just looked away, the legendary jaw concealed within his sleeve.

“Yeah, well, like you said Crowley,” Sam interrupted, “It’s a trap.”

“It would be even more foolish to let the blade fall into Metatron’s hands.”

“Oh, Cas…” Crowley smirked. “Protecting your boyfriend. Makes me all tingly inside.”

“Shove it, Crowley,” Dean snapped, finding his voice again. “What the hell did you come here for?”

“Just to tell you three amigos that something dark is in there.” And all of the sudden, the quick-witted Crowley fell silent. Don’t think that’s ever happened before. “And I mean dark. It’s something I’ve never sensed before. And I’m King of Hell, so...”

“Well, do you know what it is?”

“Yes, Sam,” the King looked to him, rather annoyed. “I’m simply choosing to be vague.”

“What else DO you know?”

“Nothing.” Crowley smirked, returning to his classic demeanor. “The whole place is warded against demons. Except, well - I know you haven’t got a chance. Believe me, boys, nothing - angel, demon, or fairy -  has ever tried something so suicidal to off you all, so...don’t get yourselves killed.”

And before they could answer, Crowley disappeared.

“Well,” Dean sighed sarcastically. “That was comforting.”

“So,” Sam breathed. “Are we still going in?”

“I don’t think we have a choice.”

“We’ve been waiting months for Metatron to appear on earth,” Castiel agreed. “We can’t stop now.”

Sam nodded, “Okay.”

And it was done.

No backing down.

No turning back.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel entered into the darkness.

 

 


	2. Are you okay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After heeding Crowley's warnings, Team Free Will confronts Metatron. However, not everything is as it appears, as the boys soon find out... The trap has sprung.  
> The trap has sprung.

The light streaming in from the doorway poisoned the darkness, allowing the boys a short few seconds to see exactly what they were walking into. The walls and floor were a cold chipped cement. Along with the random bits of furniture tossed about it, it was classic abandoned warehouse. So was the shape of the room - a characteristically unimaginative rectangle. However, it wasn't the usual infinity most warehouses seemed to feel - the farthest wall was, at most, forty feet away. Felt more like a storage crate than anything else.

“Smaller on the inside, don’t you think?”

The second the light was gone, a familiar grating voice radiated from the shadows.

“Metatron!”

“Come out and face us, you son of a bitch!”

“Now, now, Dean,” he said rather condescendingly, sounding as though he were all around them at once like toxin in the air. “I wouldn’t be too hasty if I were you. What, do you think you can kill the new God with a gun?”

He must’ve heard Dean ready the small pistol by his side.

“Yeah, well, it couldn’t hurt!”

“Dean.”

“What, Cas!”

“Listen."

"Listen?! To what?! The douchebag who stole your grace and had his second hand slimeball take Sam for a ri-"

Everyone knew Dean could've went on for ages. He only stopped talking when Castiel physically clasped his mouth shut, wrapping his hand around his chin and cheeks.

"Listen."

After a few seconds of fury raging within him (needing no assistance from the mark), he cooled enough to listen to reason.

And he heard it.

Muffled and quick. Weak and panicked.

Breathing.

From the other side of the room.

"There's people here," Sam exclaimed in surprise.

"Oh, Castiel..." the sound of Metatron's disappointment stained the air with the clicking of his tongue. "Such a spoiler."

With a melodramatic snap, the room was illuminated by two dying bulbs, hanging from the ceiling on the end of their ropes. There was the table and few chairs they had seen the silhouettes of before, but cowering in the farthest corner, huddled together and now shielding their eyes from the sudden light, were people. Four, to be precise. But, even stranger still, was the lone man in the corner. On his knees, motionless, his head twisted on his neck in a very unnatural way. His eyes practically popping out of his skull as he stared absentmindedly forward, never speaking a word.

They didn’t need to be a Doctor to know that something was wrong.

Sam and Castiel ran to the man’s side, lowering themselves to their knees to help with his unknown ailment. Dean would’ve joined them, but someone had to confront the invisible source. The virus itself.

“What the hell did you do to him?” Dean shouted angrily to the air all around him, Metatron, like the douchebag all-powerful angel that he was, still cowering from sight.

“Oh, I didn’t do anything,” he said, and Dean could just sense the smirk on his face. “No, no, no - he had this coming.”

“Why?”

“Dean! Sam, back away!”

The eldest Winchester looked back over his shoulder to see Cas physically pull Sam to his feet away from the man (an impressive feat, seeing the difference in height and muscle).

“Cas?”

“What’s wrong?”

The angel who fell now stood between them and the strange man, holding his arms out to keep them from charging forward. Or maybe to keep him from reaching them.... But neither Dean or Sam could understand the latter reason (despite it being the more likely), seeing as the man hadn’t even blinked since the lights had turned on.

“What’s wrong with him?” Sam breathed, somewhere between sympathetic for the motionless victim of an unknown cause and worried for the safety of all the other innocents in the room.

“He’s possessed,” Castiel mumbled. “By an angel.”

“An angel?”

“Well, do you recognize them?”

“It’s Donna,” Cas said without pause, focused more on protecting them than the question. “The angel of free will.”

“I thought it poetic,” Metatron confessed from the non-existent shadows. “Seeing as that’s what you three fight for the most. Free will...the very thing that made you all the miserable beings you are today. Every choice you ever made has led to misery, suffering, and death. I mean - Sam alone chose demon blood, Ruby, and Lucifer. Really, Sam? Over your own brother? And Dean - making a deal to save your little Sammy’s life over and over again -”

“Call him Sammy again, and you’ll be begging for hell.”

“You can be defensive as much as you want, Dean, but nothing will change - you’ll still be the same repressive, self-loathing ass you’ve always been, because in the end you don’t care if you survive this war or not - so long as you don’t have to survive it alone. Especially without your brother.”

“Shut up,” Dean smirked, but it wasn’t hard to see the pain behind his face. Well - at least for those who knew him well.

“And you, Castiel - the angel who fell, the great rebel of heaven - hunted by his own kind when in the end he was the most pure. And why? Because he’d become friends with Sam and Dean Winchester. And everything you ever tried to save them with failed. I mean...you made a deal with the King of Hell to impress them? To prove to them that you were right and had power of your own? That you were their equal? Really? You’re an angel, Castiel..sure, you beat Raphael in the end, but you know you and these two could’ve found another way...”

“Shut up,” Dean growled, tightening the grip on his gun.

“And now he’s defending you! You’re an angel - it’s pathetic! Think of it this way...if you had listened to him when you had the chance instead of trying to impress him doing things on your own, you would have never set the leviathans free...never been under the control of Naomi...never lost the angel tablet...and never met me. So actually, Castiel, I should thank you. Thank you for being the stupidest angel ever created.”

Cas’s face had barely fallen despite Metatron’s harsh words. He must’ve learned repression from Dean.

And then, in his low raspy voice, he uttered, “Bite me.”

“Oh, Cas,” Metadouche exclaimed, sounding rather impressed. “You know, Dean loves it when you get all tough...”

“What have you done with Donna?” Cas demanded, ignoring any more of his taunts. “Why is she possessing this man only to hold him in place.”

“Me? I didn’t do anything. No - she’s decided to follow me. To play for my team. And I must say, she is playing her role brilliantly.”

“What have you done?”

Cas repeated the question even more threateningly than before, taking none it.

And that’s when it happened. When it all began.

You see, they had focused all their attention on the one man. The one man they knew was gone.

“Castiel,” Metatron started again, sounding almost amused. “Never fail to disappoint.”

They noticed the man standing in the corner just a little too late. They were so distracted by Metatron and the one man so obviously wrong and feared that they failed to even look at the rest. An amateur mistake. Stupid.

He didn’t need to speak for them to know who was possessing his vessel.  

He did anyway.

“Goodnight, Castiel.”

Before either brother could lunge at the man, their entire world was plunged into darkness. At first, they thought it was for Metatron to hide his  attack in the shadows - it wasn’t often, after all, that he went head-to-head with the Winchesters in person - but they were wrong. He was just being melodramatic as now the only thing they could possibly see was the gust of grace flowing from the man and forcing its way down Castiel’s throat.

Sam and Dean looked at each other, knives at the ready. Dean, in the glow, saw Sammy’s concern. Sam saw Dean’s worry.

And they could do nothing.

Well, that’s not true....

They could kill the vessel.

Normally it never would have even crossed their minds, but the mark... suddenly there was nothing Dean wanted more than to dig the bone in his sleeve into the heart of his friend, twisting it around in his chest until all of his blood had stained the blade and his flesh was ripped from the bone. Three people would die - Jimmy Novak, the poor bastard who sacrificed himself by saying yes to the angels, Metatron, the evil bastard who betrayed them and brought hell to heaven and earth, and Cas, the naive bastard who had the misfortune to call Dean his friend.

And somehow, deep down, the thought made him smile.

It’s the fact that he enjoyed it that scared him.

Castiel was his friend.

And Dean would sooner kill himself than kill him. Screw the mark.

When the grace had consumed Castiel completely, he collapsed. But the lights didn’t turn on again. There was still more to the light show as Donna abandoned her vessel, possessing the scribe's in its stead, and fled. She was just a decoy. A distraction from the real evil in the room.

The group of confused petrified civilians rushed over to the angel-free man, as though examining him up close would prove he was okay. Dean and Sam, however, rushed to the one who fell in pain - not freedom.

“Cas. Cas!” Dean shouted, diving to his angel’s side. “Are you okay?”

But it was obvious from a glance he wasn’t. He was crouching on his knees, arms clenched around his chest. His eyes were lost, staring at the corner, never losing the focus on nothing it never really had. Frankly, Dean doubted he could see them at all. He looked crazy. Out of his gourd! But then he opened his mouth...

     “Cas. Cas! Are you okay.”

 

 


End file.
